


I'm Trying to Answer Their Prayers

by FalconNights



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, Ms. Eisner please get help, identity crisis, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:27:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24854578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FalconNights/pseuds/FalconNights
Summary: Every day, she walks by monks, merchants, officers, knights, all praying in one way or another—facetious, earnest, desperate. With every prayer she hears, a pang of guilt shoots through her stomach. Byleth is the only one who knows the truth. The goddess does not sit upon the blue sea star watching over Fódlan from above. She is here among them, unable to bestow the deliverance they desire.Byleth Identity Crisis drabbles
Kudos: 10





	I'm Trying to Answer Their Prayers

Every day, she walks by monks, merchants, officers, knights, all praying in one way or another—facetious, earnest, desperate. With every prayer she hears, a pang of guilt shoots through her stomach. Byleth is the only one who knows the truth. The goddess does not sit upon the blue sea star watching over Fódlan from above. She is here among them, unable to bestow the deliverance they desire. 

* * *

The mirror was a gift from Dorothea. Her student had begged her to dress up for the ball. _I didn't understand much of what she said_ , Byleth reminisced. The feeling of receiving a gift... it had overwhelmed her. The shadow of that feeling was the only reason she had not yet cast the thing into Abyss. Byleth bore into her reflection. Her seafoam eyes glared back. They were as alien as they were hers. _There's nothing left of Byleth,_ she thought. She opened and closed her hands rhythmically. _I don't feel like a goddess._ She clenched her hands into fists, tensed her arms, and felt the Crest of Flames spark in her blood. 

_But I don't know what else I could be._

* * *

Byleth thought of all the happy moments she had shared with the emperor during her days at the academy. But now she leads a crusade against the church and the false goddess. _Me,_ the enlightened one mourned, _Edelgard wants to kill me._ Tears that so seldom came to her welled in her eyes. 

_Would I die for her?_ Byleth pondered.

* * *

Moonlight drifts through the broken ceiling, lingering on rubble, dust, and precious marble. Byleth's footfalls echo through the ruined building. There is nothing here for her, but it is the only place she can be. She slides into a pew and rests her arms on top of the seat in front of her. Her eyes fix on the edge of the Garland Moon.

"I'm trying to answer their prayers." She whispers.

* * *

"I thought I might find you here," Seteth's voice was warm and calm.

"Why?" She answered tonelessly. 

"You cannot do something every night and expect to escape attention."

She continued staring at the moon

"Professor..." Seteth sighed. "You are everything to us. Archbishop, general, friend, a symbol for the-" 

"So, I am selfish? To sit here in repose?"

"...Rhea often felt the same." 

"I beg you not to speak to me of Rhea." 

"Professor-" 

"We will find her, I promise. I need to know what she has kept from me." 

"I... understand. I know how it feels to have so many questions and-" 

Byleth's grip cracked the back of the wooden bench she leaned on. "You know nothing!" She growled. "I am a mystery to myself!" Her voice grew to a shout as she stood from the bench. "Less than human?!" And then it became a roar. "Or more?!" She towered over Seteth.

She saw the subtle fear on his face, as though he would deem her to hurt him. _Maybe he's right..._ "I-" The apology choked in her throat. "There was... I... I couldn't-"

"It is okay." He whispered. "Whatever your feelings, I promise you they are okay." She collapsed back into her seat. "I understand that you are not well, Professor, but I have something to ask of you." 

_Another prayer to discard?_

Seteth pulled a small roll of parchment from his sleeve. "I... This might help you." He spoke cautiously. Byleth made no move to take the paper. "It is the chant recited by the archbishop during the Goddess's Rite of Rebirth." 

"You... want me to-" 

"Yes. It may bring you some peace." 

Still, she made no move to take it from him. Seteth nodded lightly. He let out a soft sigh, but Byleth thought she could see a thousand years in his expression. He slid out from the pew. "Until tomorrow." He bowed his head. 

Byleth returned the gesture in silence. Her gaze returned to the shattered moonlit ceiling. Now it was Seteth's footfalls that echoed around the broken cathedral. 

Byleth shut her eyes and placed a hand on her chest and pretended each of his steps was a heartbeat.

  
  


* * *

She stood on the edge of the highest floor of the goddess tower. The harsh mountain wind beat against her skin, begging her to stumble. Her eyes could not bear to be open in the barrage of stinging dust and air. The parchment danced in her grip, struggling for release. It nearly tore apart as she unfurled it. Such a simple phrase was inked across it that even though Byleth could not see the words through wind and tears, she knew them.

"The goddess always lives in heaven and in Fódlan. She is watching over us. As the mother of all living beings. As the arbiter of every soul." 

But nothing happened. Her face curled into a snarl, and she tore the paper to shreds and cast it into the wind. But then, arms outstretched, a feeling of strange familiarity crept over her.

* * *

She stood atop a pyramid overlooking an endless valley. Joy and contentment mixed in her heart as she had never felt before. A child tugged at her robe. When Byleth lifted her into a hug, a name that she had never heard left her lips.

"I love you too, mother." The child whispered back. 

Then there was fire; light; perdition. 

She fell back. The crack of stone against her spine and skull finally brought her back to a world she knew. Her stomach squirmed with nausea as she convulsed in a fit of tears. "Not... mine!" she wailed, her voice lost to the wind. But she was lying.

* * *

She tore at her hair, desperate to rip it out. Her eyes would be next, and then her blood. "Let me be free of this,” she begged. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was struggling to fit these pieces into a single cohesive story, but I ultimately decided that they would be best served on their own. I hope you enjoy at least some of them! If you do, please feel free to follow me on twitter, @FalconNights.


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